


Bar Brawls, Birthdays And Blackguards

by Cerdic519



Series: Bewhipped! [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Anxiety, Caring Dean, Cock Rings, Cuddling & Snuggling, Destiel - Freeform, Dildos, Doctor Sexy M.D., Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Drunkenness, Gay Sex, Gentle Dom Castiel, Homophobia, Impala, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Neighbors, Paddling, Pie, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Professor Castiel, Role-Playing Game, Spanking, Sub Dean, Teasing Castiel, Texas, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 10,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7929436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>September in a year of fluff, families, friends and the sort of full-force love and devotion in which professor Castiel has mechanic Dean totally bewhipped. Ben's time with Cas and Dean comes to an end and a date is set for the hearing to decide his future, over which a small dark cloud appears. Dean marks Cas' birthday with a piece of electronic gadgetry (no, not that this time!), but then blots his copybook by breaking his husband's golden rule. And Cas is further depressed by events at work, although once again it's Charlie to the rescue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saturday 1st September

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shannon_Kind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shannon_Kind/gifts), [steelcandy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcandy/gifts).



Dean had received a text from Charlie the night before, asking how things were going with Ben and reminding him that it was time for another random gift for his husband. Fortunately Ben's presence meant that Dean was one step ahead of her for once, as he had already arranged something courtesy of Linda Tran. Ben was visibly upset at having to leave, and as midday and Mrs. Andrews' arrival grew closer, he remained stubbornly silent. Even the fact that they had stopped off on their way back from some extra shopping the day before to order the camouflage paint for the toy box didn't seem to cheer him up. 

Finally the social worker arrived, and agreed to stop for a cup of tea (another dead leaf drinker, Dean thought wryly). Once she was sure that Ben had everything, they got ready to go.

“We have a small going away present for you, Ben”, Cas said suddenly. “I don't know if you'll like it, but it will definitely remind you of us both until we have you back permanently.”

He gave the boy the box, and Ben opened it carefully, as if he was half-afraid of the contents. Dean grinned as he waited for the boy's reaction. Inside the box were two complete outfits for GI Joe, created by Linda Tran. One was Cas' blue suit, tie and trench coat, and the other was Dean's jeans and plaid shirt, complete with boots. The boy's lip quivered.

“The top soldiers often go undercover, so now GI Joe can disguise himself as a nerdy professor or a handsome cowboy”, Cas said, smiling at his husband's blush. “So he can creep up on the bad guys and, pow!”

“Thank you so much!” Ben all but yelled as he hugged first Cas and then Dean. 

There were a lot more tears, but finally Ben and Mrs. Andrews left. Dean stared after them wistfully, until he heard a pointed cough from behind him. He turned round and..... uh oh. He knew that look.

“You!” Cas snarled. “Upstairs! Now!”

Dean saluted.

“Yes sir, right away sir!” he barked, before sprinting to their bedroom.

He didn't make it. But hey, a little rug burn never hurt anyone!


	2. Sunday 2nd September

Dean woke feeling gloriously sated. God, Mrs. Andrews must have been barely off the estate before Cas was thrusting into his husband, panting wildly and looked more like some forest savage that a quiet, cultured English professor. And they had had sex for a solid hour before Dean had, if only because his body could no longer take it, called for a break (no, he did not beg this time, so shut up!).

And then Cas had totally surprised him, not by continuing his attempt to pummel Dean's prostate into the next country, but by insisting on drawing his husband a bath and giving him a massage, before pulling him onto the couch and switching on Doctor Sexy MD. And much as Dean loved it when he and Cas had rough, hard sex, there was something to be said for the gentle touch. 

Especially, of course, because Cas knew his husband so well. Just a little way into the TV marathon Dean started to worry about everything that could go wrong, and before he knew it, he was having a complete freak-out on their couch. He found himself sobbing into his husband's chest, whilst Cas held him in his arms and whispered words of comfort. Since he was Dean Winchester, he also worried about the fact that Cas must have known this would happen, which was why he had arranged to be holding him just now. But his wonderful husband just continued to work his magic, until Dean's sobs were just quiet murmurs.

They had an early dinner, not saying much to each other until the washing-up had been sorted. Then Cas turned to his husband.

“I want you to fuck me tonight”, he said brusquely. “Then I want you to cover me all night, Dean. I want to be yours, totally owned.”

Dean felt such a wimp for his performance that day, but Cas led him upstairs and gradually his confidence started to return. He wanted to make this good for the man he loved so much, and before long Cas was coming with a shout, followed soon after by his husband. Cas grunted unhappily when Dean pulled out to get a cloth and wipe them both off, and turned onto his front, stretching his legs out and folding his arms under the pillow. Dean smiled down at him through the tears, and carefully positioned himself over his husband, relaxing onto his body with a happy sigh. It felt like coming home.

Unfortunately it was going to be an emotional week, in what was to prove a difficult month. For both of them.


	3. Monday 3rd September

It had been Cas' suggestion that, in order to distract Dean from worrying about everything, he might phone Bobby and offer to open up the garage this Labor Day. Bobby usually shut the place on such days, but there would surely be loads of people out there whose cars broke down, and any extra business was good. Cas must have also said something to the old grouch, because he didn't object and just called Dean an idjit. And at least Dean went to work feeling a little better; an email sent from Mrs. Andrews the night before said not only how much Ben had enjoyed his fortnight with them, but that the hearing to decide on whether to accept them as Ben's parents would be held in mid-November. This seemed a bit of a wait for Dean, but the social worker assured him that this was the norm.

The good news did not last. Dean's third customers of a busy morning were horribly familiar. The Menzies. 

“We're off to a church function in Dallas”, Angus Menzies said snootily, “but there is a definitive knocking sound. I require you to attend to it.”

And you just landed yourself twenty bucks extra on your bill, Dean thought testily. He was fairly sure that, given the noise the car had been making when it pulled up, it was the carburetor that had packed up, so it would not take long to replace. 

“I'm just finishing up on the 'Vette, then I'll sort you out”, Dean said. “If it's what I think it is, it shouldn't take more than twenty minutes.”

“Can't you see to us now?” Delilah Menzies whined. Her two kids were sat in the back looking supremely bored.

“We shouldn't even be open today”, Dean said, biting his lip in annoyance. “There's a diner across the street. Come back in half an hour.”

“Rude man!” Delilah Menzies hissed as the four walked away.

Thirty bucks, Dean thought.

Thankfully it was the carburetor, and Dean had a new one fitted by the time the unpleasant family were back. No thank-you, just an eye-roll at the cost. Scotland was one lucky country, to have managed to rid itself of Angus Menzies! 

Thirty-five, the extra five being just because. And the old blu-tak in the air vent, which over time would gather fluff and make an annoying knocking sound.


	4. Tuesday 4th September

It was Cas' first day back at college, which meant general bedlam on campus. The professor loved his job (though nowhere near as much as he loved his husband), but first days back? Ugh!

Things weren't helped by Principal Moseley's Taster Week idea. Cas had approved in theory, but it meant that for the first week he had more lectures than usual, and many of them with students who were only trying out the English options (though they all had to do the basic course) before fixing on their choices by the end of the week. Though the looks on some of their faces when they realized that they'd actually be required to spell words correctly....

The professor was totally frazzled when he staggered home an hour later than usual that evening. Dean had had another minor freak-out over Ben that morning, but when he had texted his husband to warn him he'd be late, Dean had replied he would sort dinner out. Cas worried about Dean's mental state at times like this; the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his father – despite Dean's denials, Cas insisted on calling it exactly what it had been – made him emotionally vulnerable. Cas was sure he'd be better once he saw what a success the two of them were going to make with Ben, but in the meantime Dean needed keeping an eye on.

He opened the door into the kitchen – and froze. Ye Gods! Dean had moved the table and laid it with a gingham tablecloth, just like the one at La Dolce Vita where they had had their first real date. And the menu in the middle of the table....

“The place does take-out these days”, Dean smiled, seeming almost nervous. “I thought you might be a bit stressed this week, so we could relive our first date tonight.”

Cas couldn't believe what he was seeing. His lip quivered. Dean started to look nervous.

“Uh, say something, Cas?”

“God, you're so wonderful!” Cas burst out, his eyes filling with tears. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Dean smiled, walked over and pulled him into a hug. 

“When we re-enact exactly what we did after that date, I'll point it out!”

Cas smiled through his tears.


	5. Wednesday 5th September

In the pantheon (and it was Cas' fault he knew that word) of crappy weeks, this one was evidently gunning for top spot. Dean had had a tiring day at the garage, although he'd been carried through much of it by Cas' and his re-enactment of their first date the night before. And because he wanted it to be exactly the same, Dean dutifully cried through the tender, loving care that Cas showed him before, during and after sex. 

No, the day itself was not that bad. It was the news Cas had for him when he got home.

“We may have a problem with Ben”, he said gravely.

“Is he alright?” Dean asked anxiously. “He's not been hurt or anything?”

“Physically he is fine”, Cas said reassuringly. “However, Mrs. Andrews called in at the college today. I think she would have called at the garage as well, but she was clearly in a rush so I said I would tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Dean was beginning to sweat now.

“Ben's uncle – you remember, she said he might be a problem - has lodged a formal objection against our adopting him.”

Dean's heart went cold.

“He wants him?” he asked.

“No”, Cas said, sounding angry now. “He says that he does not think we can provide a stable environment in which to raise his nephew.”

“In other words, because we're gay”, Dean said sharply. Cas nodded.

“Mrs. Andrews says that, after the troubles they experienced with her predecessor, Child Services would not be inclined to accept such an objection, especially as Mr. Bourne has shown zero interest in Ben until now, or even directly after the accident for that matter. However, when we have the hearing in November he will be able to state his objection there, after which the president of the court will make their decision. Usually on the day, Mrs. Andrews says.”

“Bastard!” Dean grumbled. “He hates us that much that he'd ruin his nephew's chance of escaping the system? Some family he is!”

“I agree”, Cas said. “We'll have to just wait and see.”


	6. Thursday 6th September

There was a small piece of good news when Dean came home the following day. Child Services had, it seemed, indeed chosen not to accept Mr. Bourne's objections over their having Ben, although they could still be aired in court.

“Mrs. Andrews said that it didn't help that his own wife was against his complaint”, Cas said. “She sent them a statement that, in her belief, Ben would do better with us in a stable home, and her husband was, and I quote, 'dumb as a brick to try to block it'. They are separated, but her words will still count.”

“I doubt that'll stop a bigot like him, though”, Dean sighed. “Showing reason and logic to people like that would be like showing a carburettor to a caveman! Did you make pie today?”

“They should employ you as a sniffer dog at the airport!” Cas laughed. “The Reverend Ford is having a bake sale for the poor this weekend, and I promised to make something for it. And yes, I did three, one of which is for you. Lucky I had no classes this afternoon because the schedule is all over the place with Taster Week.”

“Have the students settled in yet?” Dean asked.

“They probably won't until next week, when they know it's 'for real'”, Cas said, doing the air-quotes he knew Dean loved. “And the newbies are in for a whole stack of initial assessment tests then, which I bet they don't know about.”

“Poor bastards”, Dean said sympathetically. “I remember my time there. There was this one really hot professor....”

He realized too late that there was no good way out of that sentence, not from the quizzical look his husband was giving him.

“Errrrr..... but no way near as hot as the one I married, of course!” he finished suavely.

“Good save”, Cas smiled.

Dean heaved a silent sigh of relief.

“But it's not gonna be enough to stop me slapping a gag on you and then riding you until you scream tonight!”

Scratch the relief.


	7. Friday 7th September

Krissy grinned at Dean as he sat carefully in his (mercifully) padded chair.

“Take it you're happy not to be in the garage and on the 'concrete' floor today?” she teased.

“Unless you want graphic details of how I got like this, shaddup!”

He looked up. The damn woman had her notebook out again!

“Go on!” she said eagerly. “Any time!”

Dean gave her the finger.

+~+~+

It was cruel and unusual punishment for Cas to ask Dean for a lift into work that day, and to first drive him to the church center so he could deliver those delicious pies. Yeah, Baby was way more roomy than the pimpmobile, but it meant that she reeked of delicious baked goods that Dean would either never get to see, or that he would have to wait until tomorrow and then pay for. Life was unfair sometimes!

(Alright, he had a pie Cas had baked for him, too. But these were different pies! And Dean wanted).

When they got home, Cas told him to wait in the car until he called him to come in. Somewhat disgruntled – it had been a long day and Dean wanted a shower – he did as he was told, picking up his Kindle from the glove compartment. He got so into his latest story that when the phone rang, he was surprised that over fifteen minutes had passed. He left Baby and went into the kitchen.

And stopped stone dead. Holy cow!

On the table was the largest apple-pie Dean had ever seen. Hell, it had to be the size of their stove, which he had chosen because it was much larger than average. And it was gently steaming, with a jug of Cas' home-made custard also bubbling away nearby. Cas just have used his head start to heat everything up for him.

“It's not been a fun week”, Cas said with a smile, “and I did say I made you one as well. Pie for my Pie. Welcome to dinner, beloved.”

Dean's eyes watered. God, he loved this man so much!


	8. Saturday 8th September

Baby needed a good wash, Dean had decided. So he eased her out onto the driveway, got all the stuff he would need, and turned on the little portable stereo in the garage. He was strongly tempted to turn it up to full blast, but the Menzies garage was just across the access path and one of its doors was open, so Dean refrained. Just.

He may have deliberately chosen the skimpy halter-top and the equally tight shorts that showed off his butt to perfection. But that was okay, because Cas was totally understanding over him wearing it without permission. Or would have been, had he not been down helping out at the bake sale. Dean had a couple of other small jobs around the house, so had given his husband fifty bucks and a shopping-list of the pastries he wanted him to bring back when he finally got home (despite the fact that two thirds of the pie from the night before still remained; that would not last him for long!). 

+~+~+

When Dean finally finished polishing Baby, he pushed her back into her bay and closed the garage door. Then he went to go into the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway to turn for one last look at his clean machine.

“Very nice.”

Dean squeaked in shock and would have probably fallen down the two stairs had not Cas caught him. He stared at his husband and blushed.

“You're home!” he managed. 

“And you're nearly naked”, Cas growled. “Parading what's mine for everyone to have a look at when you thought I was safely out of the way. Fortunately the reverend mentioned he'd seen you rolling Baby out as he left, and when I asked, he confirmed your attire.”

“Cas, I can explain....”

“Hands on the car, Dean. You're gonna have to clean her again after.”

“After what?” Dean asked

“After I've fucked you wearing that 'uniform'”, Cas growled, pushing him slowly backwards. “Mine!”

Dean turned and ran to the bonnet, placed his hands carefully on it and spread his legs. God, he was such a whore!

That was his last thought for some considerable time. Still, at least Cas was considerate enough to not let him come all over Baby. And to help him stagger into the house afterwards.


	9. Sunday 9th September

It was the toothpaste that did it.

Most of the shops in the town were far enough to warrant driving to, but there was a small drugstore just within walking distance, and after some persuasion (a blow-job that left him having to lie down for several minutes afterwards), Dean had agreed to balance his working out in his little gym with regular Sunday walks. And as they needed someone's favorite apple-flavored toothpaste that a green-eyed bow-legged certain someone had used the last of and then forgotten to add them to the shopping list pinned to the fridge, Cas directed them there. 

He was considering the excessive number of options when he realized that he was minus one husband. Looking around – it was only a small place – he could see a familiar blond mop in the next aisle, and walked round to meet him. Dean was staring at the shelf in front of him, seemingly lost.

“Dean?”

His husband turned to look at him, and Cas immediately started worrying. That was Dean's 'I am about to freak out' look again. And he was in the baby food aisle. Fuck!

Cas was with his husband in three long strides, pulling him into a hug and whispering words of encouragement. An elderly lady passed by and gave them both an uncertain look, but Cas ignored her. His focus was totally on his husband, and nothing else mattered.

“We're gonna have a kid, Cas!” Dean whispered, his voice trembling. “We're gonna be parents!”

“Yeah”, Cas agreed. “I know. And you and I are gonna raise the best little mechanic in Texas!”

Dean shuddered, but he seemed to be calming down. Cas spared a moment to wish John Winchester some extra torture in Hell for what he had done to his son, before leading Dean to the checkout and back out into the summer sunshine. 

There was a lot of cudd.... manly holding to be done.


	10. Monday 10th September

Dean braced himself before shutting Baby's door and heading into the house. There was the very slightest chance that, just possibly, he might be in the smallest imaginable and most minuscule amount of trouble with his husband.

Ah.

Cas was sat on the big chair which he had pulled into the middle of the kitchen. He was naked except for his mortar-board (on his head this time), he had their largest paddle in his hand, and Dean's safety bat lay on the floor green side up.

Alright, so maybe he shouldn't have left that Jupiter-sized hickey on his husband before he'd left for work that morning. But Dean had woken early and Cas was lying there looking so deliciously fuckable and.... well, what was a man to do? And whilst Dean was the one who more enjoyed being on the receiving end of being marked – knowing that he had Cas' claim on him at work all day sent a thrill through his body every time he touched the mark – Cas was not as keen, though he allowed it. But he'd had to go in and teach students who would take one look at him and....

“Dean!” 

It was that Voice again. Den could hardly get out of his pants quickly enough, before he stumbled over to his husband and splayed himself across his knees, presenting his butt. He bit his lip in preparation.

“I thought that the cruelest thing I could do tonight would be to set you up for a real spanking”, Cas rumbled, “and then hold off.”

Dean's eyes widened. His husband would not be that cruel!

Oh yeah. Dean had let him go to work with that hickey. Maybe he could.

“Yeah, that's a fitting punishment, don't you think?” Cas smiled. 

Dean knew he was supposed to stay silent, but he could not suppress a whimper.

“But then”, Cas said thoughtfully, “I thought nah....”

And with that the first blow hit, and Dean howled and arched his back in triumph. Hallelujah!

“But you have to keep quiet”, Cas added.

Dean scowled. Now that was just being meeeeeeeean!


	11. Tuesday 11th September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who dishonor the country on this day - yes, Saddleback College and the NFL, I'm looking at you - if you'd prefer to live in another country instead, the planet has over two hundred of the things. You won't be missed.

There were some people, Dean thought with a wry satisfaction, who just didn't – or more likely wouldn't – learn.

It was a somber day at the garage, and even the music which normally played in the background was muted. Oddly, there was also a lot less swearing as well. This was a difficult day, and everyone just wanted to get through it and keep their thoughts to themselves.

Unfortunately, they had Mr. Abadim, who drove up in a silver Mercedes and walked in as if he owned the place. Dean was in the front office talking to Bobby when the man walked up to them and just started talking.

“Car needs repairing”, he said to Bobby. “You do it.”

Dean winced. Bobby normally kept away from customers as a rule, and that sort of action was not gonna do the man any favors.

“Sure”, Bobby drawled. “You want us to phone you when it's done, or you gonna wait it out at the diner across the road?”

“American food?” the man sneered. “No. I work two blocks from here. You drive it to this address when done.”

He handed over his keys and a card, then stalked off. Dean waited until he was gone before smiling.

“You gonna work on his car personally, Bobby?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna... fix it good?”

“Oh yeah!”

Dean grinned at his surrogate father, a man of few words. But they understood each other perfectly.

+~+~+

Mr. Abadim never worked out why, every time he went anywhere in their car, there was the tinny sound of someone playing The Star-Spangled Banner. And a rattling sound in the air vent. And a most unpleasant smell from somewhere. He did take the car to another garage some time later and demand they fix things, but for some strange reason they were unable to. 

Coincidentally, Dean noticed that the dead rat Bobby had shot out the back last week had disappeared.


	12. Wednesday 12th September

The two of them had an unexpected visitor that evening. Mrs. Benfield called round. Thankfully Dean was wearing a dressing-gown at the time, at which she looked rather too knowingly.

“I walk this way most days”, she said, “and I thought I'd better warn you about your neighbors.”

“The Menzies?” Dean asked, She nodded.

“Yes”, she said. “They are trying to raise a petition against your being on the estate. They claim, ahem, that you are sometimes too loud.”

It was one of the few times Dean had ever seen Cas' face turn red. He was sure his own was just as bad, though.

“Unless they're standing outside with a glass to the wall, they can't hear anything”, Cas said stoutly. “I thought they might complain, so the other week I turned on Dean's stereo in the garage, shut the door and went down the access path. I couldn't hear it, so if they say they can hear us from their house, they are lying.”

“I know, dear”, their visitor smiled. “And I'm sure we all know that their claims are just a cover because they disapprove of your, ahem, life choices. But they do have one or two friends on the estate who share their views.”

“They can't get us thrown out, can they?” Dean asked uneasily.

“No”, Mrs. Benfield said firmly. “But people tend to take sides over such things, and the idea of actually talking out their disagreements seems beyond them. When my cousin came out two years ago it split his family down the middle, and some members of the family still aren't talking to each other. I just thought you should be warned.”

“Thank you”, Cas smiled grimly.


	13. Thursday 13th September

Dean was not pouting. He was not, dammit!

“Stop pouting”, Cas said, adjusting his bow-tie. “It's not as if Mrs. Padelecki is gonna make a move on me, Dean. She knows I'm married.”

Dean pou.... frowned. He had clean forgotten that, at a fundraiser held for the college last Christmas, Cas had put himself forward for one of those ghastly 'win a date' auctions. Of course his husband had raised more money than anyone else – no surprise there! - but now he was actually going out for an evening with that harpy on the school board, as it was her birthday. Dean had seen the way the middle-aged widow – 'call me Ruby, hon!' - had looked at Cas, and she was a cougar if ever there was one.

“She only wants to get into your pants”, he muttered sulkily.

“And you don't? Cas quipped. 

Dean.... frowned. His husband chuckled.

“Dean”, he said, and hot damn, his voice was rolling down those octaves towards Sex City, “I promise to return from this evening with my virtue intact. I have to, when you think about it.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“So that when I come home, you can make sure I well and truly lose that virtue”, Cas grinned. “I want you to fuck me into the mattress until I scream. I want you to bend me in two so I can suck my own dick whilst you make me beg for more. And then I want you to walk around the house with me impaled on that cock of yours, fucking me again and again until I'm crying for you to stop. And then I want you to fuck me even more.”

Words. Dean was sure he'd managed some earlier in the evening, as he blubbered meaninglessly. Cas smirked at him.

“See you later!” he smiled, leaving Dean standing there horny and desperate. The bastard!

+~+~+

Dean had to actually put on a cock-ring to stop himself from coming there and then. He was saving that for his teasing bastard of a husband.

God, but it was worth it!


	14. Friday 14th September

Even the special ointment couldn't save him this time, from either the pain in his dick – Cas had insisted Dean carry him downstairs that morning impaled on it – or the smirks from his co-workers (and soon to be ex-friends) as he limped into the garage. 

“You're getting old, brother”, Benny teased. “Married life wearing you out?”

“I'm four years younger than you!” Dean retorted.

“Yeah, but you look fourteen years older!” Ash quipped. “How did Cas' date with the cougar go?”

Dean scowled. Fuck, was nothing sacred?

“He was the perfect gentleman”, he said smugly. “But he made up for it when he got home, and we.....”

Cain chose that moment to turn the garage stereo up to full blast. Dean smirked, and began to change into his overalls. Then he dug out a large tupperware box (ye gods, Dean Winchester used tupperware!) and placed it on the table. The silence in the garage was palpable.

“Please tell me Cas baked cookies?” Ash said, almost drooling.

“He did a batch as a thank-you to Mrs. Padalecki for donating so much to the college”, Dean said smugly, “and he insisted on doing some more for me to take into work. He didn't actually say I had to share them with you lot.”

“We'll tell on you”, Benny said at once. Dean looked at him.

“What are you, five?”

“Cookies!” Ash said beseechingly. “Cookies baked by Cas. Want!”

Dean sighed in a put-upon way.

“There's five bags inside”, he said at last. “One's mine, one's for Bobby and the chocolate is for when Krissy gets back on....”

The men were already fighting each other to get to the cookies first. Dean smiled. He had the most wonderful husband, even if he did leave Dean with a sore dick and/or butt some (most) days.


	15. Saturday 15th September

The paint for Ben's room had had to be made up specially in order to match the wallpaper he'd chosen. Dean had just got the email to tell him it was finally ready (the shop had a machine that did it, but it had been broken for several weeks and they had had to send to another store to get it done). Dean had planned to pick it up when he and Cas went shopping, but he had other things to do first.

Cas wanted to spend the morning visiting his bees, which gave Dean half the garage to work in with the pimpmobile out of the way. He had borrowed Benny's electric sander, and in no time the My Little Pony toy box was rid of that terrible pale pink hue, now just a plain but sturdy box. Dean then fitted four supports in the side section on which he placed a false bottom. It had a hole cut into one side so Ben could lift it up and hide stuff in the small compartment underneath. He took several photos with his phone before emailing it to Ben, along with the news that the paint was ready and he would be emailing him a picture of the finished product when it was done.

Cas returned at half eleven just as Dean was getting hungry, but insisted on the shopping first, no matter how much Dean pouted. Though he did insist on kissing the pout away and said they could go to the Roadhouse for lunch, so the pout had been worth it. 

They collected the paint, which Dean was initially worried over because both shades seemed lighter than he expected. However the guy at the shop explained that because he was painting wood, that would result in a darker finish, especially as Dean was planning to varnish the box for added protection. Cas smiled at his husband's enthusiasm when it came to such things, and the two of them went home in the pimpmobile (Dean had refused to take Baby because, well, paint). 

The painting took the rest of the day, having to apply first the brown and then the green, but in the end Dean was impressed with the result. The guy in the shop had been right; it matched the strip of wallpaper he held next to it perfectly. He emailed Ben some pictures of it, adding that it still needed to be varnished, then went in for dinner.

It had been a good day.


	16. Sunday 16th September

Whilst Dean had been working on the toy box, Cas had been preparing Ben's room to be wallpapered.

“I wonder if he'll still want an army theme in a few years' time?” Cas mused. After some discussion they had confirmed that Ben would spend the next few years in the nursery directly next to their own bedroom, and that when he reached six or seven Ben would swap rooms with Cas' study; Dean planned to have the apple-tree outside the nursery window crowned so that it would not block out so much light as it did to the gym directly below. That also meant that Cas could study in peace and quiet without a noisy kid next door. The spare bedroom would function as a de facto extra toy room for Ben except for those few times they had guests.

“We'll redecorate his new room whatever way he wants”, Dean said with a smile. “Unless he's inspired by the old toy box décor and gets into My Little Pony.”

“You do know that there's a whole adult fetish group based on that series?” Cas said. Dean stared at him in astonishment.

“What?”

“Bronies, they're called”, Cas said. “Men of, ahem, a certain age who dress up and often sexualize the original characters.”

“Euw!”

Cas was suddenly right next to him.

“I seem to recall a certain person not a million miles away who is more than a little partial to such role-play”, he growled.

Damn it, how could he argue back and fight down an erection at the same time? Cas should not be allowed to use the Sex Voice™ like that!

“Cas!” he sort-of-whined.

“Let's see how good a job you can do with the wallpapering”, Cas grinned. “And if you do it well, I might reward you later by digging out the doctor's coat again. I might even use the stethoscope and give you a thorough examination!”

Dean shuddered.

+~+~+

Somehow Cas had found time to put the stethoscope in the freezer for a few hours, the bastard. Thank God he had had the foresight to gag his husband first, because considering where he applied it, Dean nearly hit the ceiling!


	17. Monday 17th September

“You did well to control your temper there, brother”, Benny said admiringly.

They were driving back from Granbury, having delivered a customer's Rolls Royce that he had had brought into the garage – by his chauffeur! - last Friday. Bobby had voiced the opinion that the guy was a first class prick, but a few phone calls had established that the prick had already upset the only other garage near his home that were equipped to deal with expensive foreign cars like his, and the guys there had recommended Bobby. Probably out of spite, Dean thought bitterly.

“Yeah, well”, he muttered. “Mr. Algernon Fotheringham-Smythe pays money like everyone else. Wal-Mart doesn't ask if the greenbacks I hand over are courtesy of a prick like him.”

Benny looked at him appraisingly. Dean wilted under that stare.

“You did something to his car, didn't you”, Benny said in his Cajun drawl. “Nothing dangerous, was it?”

“Nah”, Dean said with a slow smile. “Just the old chewing-gum into the air vents trick. Better than Ratsworth being left in that other moron's car last week. 'Sides, Algie'll probably get Charles the Chauffeur to drop it off to us when it starts driving him mad!”

“His name is Earl, and he's a decent guy”, Benny said. The prick of an owner had not even bothered to arrange for his chauffeur to get back to the house, but fortunately Benny had had to go into Fort Worth for some parts, and had given him a lift. “We're just lucky to work for a guy like Bobby.”

“Yeah, we're just one big happy bunch of idjits!” Dean agreed, as they finally left the city and hit the open road back to town. He wondered idly if Cas would wear the panties again that evening. It had been far too long since.....

“Brutha, stop it!”

“What?”

“Thinking about your husband in the car”, Benny said. “You had that look about you again.”

Dean grinned. What could he say? Cas was irresistible!


	18. Tuesday 18th September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to our favorite angel!

Dean never - well, hardly ever - lied to his husband. Not because the consequences were always painful (if sometimes highly enjoyable) but because Cas had that betrayed look that was like an amped-up version of Sammy's lost puppy face. It made Dean want to strip naked and surrender himself to whatever Cas wanted (not that that also wasn't highly enjoyable). 

This morning, however, Dean did tell a small white lie when he said he needed the bathroom. Fortunately Mr. Comatose was too tired to notice that Dean went through the door into the corridor and slipped downstairs. He has back in less than two minutes, hoping against hope that Cas wouldn't be upset with him.

It was one of the weird quirks of Cas' character that he hated his birthday, which was today. It wasn't that he minded being another year older, but his family had never marked each other's birthdays with even as much as a card, and he didn't like people making a fuss over him. Which was odd, Dean thought, because Cas always worked so hard to make Dean's birthdays memorable. His whole life, come to that.

And now he was getting a hard-on, thinking of the glorious torture Cas had subjected him to back in January. Ah well. Waste not, want not.....

+~+~+

Dean had barely started breakfast when he suddenly had two armfuls of naked husband.

“Thank you for the tea-maker”, Cas whispered into his ear. “I always wanted one, but it seemed like such an indulgence.”

“You're worth it”, Dean smiled, pulling his husband into a hug, and uttering a silent prayer for the conifer he had planted outside the kitchen window. He didn't want to give the estate a free show of the perverts in 820 at it again.

Cas pulled back and smiled, his blue eyes glistening with tears.

“And now”, he growled, “Let me show you just how grateful I really am!”

Fuck, it was meant to have been Cas who had gotten the birthday present. Thank heaven for a sturdy kitchen table!

+~+~+

About an hour later, his fellow mechanics were all scowling. Damn Bobby had scooped the annual pool on his chief mechanic's belated arrival yet again!


	19. Wednesday 19th September

Yesterday had been a good day in what had thus far generally been a crappy month. Unfortunately normal service resumed with a letter that morning.

“It's from Mrs. Andrews”, Cas said with a frown. “Apparently Mr. Bourne is being difficult again.”

“What is it this time?” Dean asked exasperatedly.

“He asked for the hearing into Ben's placement to be delayed, as he has an important meeting that day.”

Dean's heart sank.

“We're not getting Ben?” he said.

“But the president of the court has declined his request”, Cas said. “Mrs. Andrews says the woman is hard, but fair and open-minded. She told Mr. Bourne that if he could not reschedule or get out of a simple meeting, then he clearly had little interest in his nephew.”

“Hah!”

“Mrs. Andrews thinks he was probably not serious, though”, Cas went on. “She thinks he is hoping that because he has ceded this point, the court might be more inclined to look favorably on his objections.”

“Would they?” Dean asked anxiously.

“She thinks not”, Cas said. “But he works for a law firm. He will know how these things operate.”

“Should we get a lawyer?” Dean asked.

“They don't have lawyers”, Cas said. “It's just us against him. We'll win, Dean. You'll see.”

Dean wished that he felt as confident.

+~+~+

Dean had more bad news as well that day. Sammy's relationship with Jessica Moore had hit a major road block due to her father taking a new job in England. She was transferring to the prestigious Oxford University over there, and they had agreed that a long-distance relationship probably wouldn't work, especially as the move was probably permanent. Sammy was very depressed, and Dean had done his best to comfort him.

Though his cruel husband would not let him use the clown hire line to 'cheer up' his brother. Dammit, Dean wasn't allowed any fun!


	20. Thursday 20th September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fasten your seat-belts......

It all started to go wrong because Linda Tran was too damn observant.

“I went online and found a picture from a state lawyers' meeting last December”, Cas said looking worried. “I showed it to Mrs. Tran, and she said it was him.”

“Is she sure?” Dean asked, worriedly.

“Yes.”

+~+~+

It had been a normal day, up to the point Dean had got home and found his husband sitting down with Linda Tran. She had come home at lunch and seen a strange man walking repeatedly up and down the street, seemingly paying particular attention to 820. Fortunately she had been able to use her mobile to covertly capture some shots of the guy. He was of average height, reedy, had receding black hair, looked about forty years of age and was dressed in what was very obviously a designer suit. He also had a distinctive crescent-shaped scar on his face.

In short, it was Mr. James Bourne.

“It must've been him at the garage earlier as well”, Dean groaned. “Damn, why didn't I follow that up? I was getting the guys lunch and Krissy said someone like that had been asking after me but he'd left, saying it wasn't important.”

“He's checking up on us”, Cas said nervously. “If I thought he actually cared at all for his nephew, I could understand that, but this? This worries me.”

“Email Mrs. Andrews and tell her”, Dean aid firmly. “He needs to be told to back off, before I tell him with my fists.”

“Dean!”

“I mean it, Cas. If he comes anywhere near you, I won't be held responsible for what I might do. Plenty of junkers out the back of Bobby's with nice roomy trunks for a dead body.”

Cas looked at him as if he feared Dean was being serious. Which was good, because he was. Deadly!


	21. Friday 21st September

Their couch, Dean decided, was great for cuddling but made a piss-poor bed. Which was unfortunate, as that was where he was sleeping tonight.

His crappy month had evidently decided it was not being crappy enough. And although Friday night was often the time that Cas would let him ignore his diet and just pig out, the professor was staying late at college for some function or other. So Dean – disastrously, as things had turned out – had decided to head to the Roadhouse for a drink. Or five.

And then who should show up but the bastard himself, Mr. James Fancy Lawyer Bourne, taking the seat next to Dean and asking Jo about the Winchesters. One thing had led to another, which had led to a full-blown bar fight which Dean had of course won, except..... yeah, except he had then had to come home bruised and bloodied, and face Cas. 

Cas, who had been Absolutely. Bloody. Furious!

What hurt Dean more than his throbbing head (and he knew that would be even worse tomorrow morning) was the betrayed look Cas had given him when two of the guys from the bar had driven him home. Because Cas, who put up with so much crap from his husband, must have thought this particular cartload was done and dusted. And now this.

It had been three years ago. Dean and Cas had always been together, but Cas' parents, already annoyed that he had not gone to some fancy college just to stay with his boyfriend, had insisted that their son spend a term on an exchange program with a school in England. The timing had sucked, especially as no sooner had he gone than John Winchester had begun his final and spectacular descent into alcoholism. The stress on Dean had proved too much, and after his father died he too had taken to the bottle. Worse, he had lied to Cas when he had written him, saying everything was fine. And then there had been that memorable day when Cas had turned up at that seedy bar, back a month early from England because someone (Benny, God bless the man) had tattled on Dean, and determined to save him. And he had.

And now Dean had gone and got drunk again. Some husband he was!

He cried himself to sleep.


	22. Saturday 22nd September

If Dean had had any thoughts that the covered glass of water and two headache tablets that had materialized in the living-room meant he was even remotely forgiven for his actions, he soon realized his mistake. Cas was polite and considerate, but he was visibly holding back on the normal loving words and touches, even though Dean could see it took an effort on his part. But then, Dean deserved this pain. He was so ashamed of himself.

Cas went shopping by himself that morning, leaving Dean huddled up on the couch, feeling sorry for himself and yet hating himself at one and the same time. Fortunately his husband was not gone long. And amazingly, when he returned he came straight into the living-room and sat down on the couch beside him.

“I met Jo in Wal-Mart”, he said carefully. “She was going to come over and talk to me later.

“Oh?” 

Cas reached over and lifted up a rogue strand of hair. Dean did not shudder. Much.

“She told me about Mr. Bourne, and what he said”, Cas said quietly. “Fortunately Ellen had CCTV installed last year, so even if he denies it, there is hard evidence that he provoked you.”

“Oh.” He was a real conversationalist today.

“You know how I feel about alcohol, Dean”, Cas said quietly. “It was bad enough being away from you in England that time, but when I found out all you were going through, and that you hadn't felt able to trust me enough to tell me.... it hurt, Dean. It hurt more than anything had ever hurt me in my life. And to see you like this.....”

His voice broke as he trailed off. He stood up and made a visible effort to pull himself together.

“You're still on time-out with me”, he said, his voice trembling a little. “You can sleep in our bed tonight, but you will do just that. Sleep.”

“Yes, Cas.”

“Good. Now go get dressed. We might as well make what we can of today.”

Dean nodded, and shuffled off to their bedroom. He did not cry, but it was close.


	23. Sunday 23rd September

Dean was a mess. Hell, he hadn't even raised an objection when Ellen and Jo turned up, the barkeep in her truck and Jo driving Baby. Dean cursed his luck that Ellen had been across town at another bar that night, otherwise she would never had let Dean get into such a state. Jo had done her best, but she could hardly have been expected to run her mother's bar and stop Dean making a complete prick of himself.

Cas was clearly trying to forgive his husband, but alcoholism was one of the few red lines he had when it came to Dean's behavior, and Dean had gone and stomped all over it. It didn't help that Cas himself was already stressed out, not just by recent events but because he had an assessment day coming up, when one of the other professors would sit in on one of his classes and mark him. Bearing in mind just how much his students loved him that shouldn't have been a problem, but now it was.

Cas was quiet all day, and his husband noted that he went for a much longer run than usual. Dean cooked for them that evening, but even his signature burgers tasted bland. He just had no appetite. Dean was sure he couldn't feel any lower.

Which showed just how much he had (once again) underestimated the universe. Because when he followed Cas up to bed, he entered the room to find his husband lying face down on their bed sobbing his heart out.

“Cas!” he said urgently. “Cas!”

“I'm so sorry!” his husband sobbed, the pillow visibly wet with his tears. “I should be able to move on from this, but..... I love you so much, I'd die if I lost you, Dean.”

Dean tried to pull him into a hug, but Cas held to the bed with an iron grip, still sobbing in a way that broke Dean's heart. He gently eased in behind his husband and held him in – yeah it was a cuddle, but this was an emergency, dammit. He would never, ever deserve this man, not in a million years. 

But damn, he was gonna try!


	24. Monday 24th September

Dean had hoped that after last night, when Cas had let him sleep wrapped around him, that things would not get back to normal. And they did.

Unfortunately, it turned out more normal for this particularly crappy September. Because when Dean arrived home that evening, he could see immediately that something else was very wrong. He resisted the urge to give God the finger, but it was close.

“What's up?” he asked anxiously.

“My assessment was today”, Cas sniffed. “I got a D.”

“What the fuck?” 

“They drew names at random, and I had Gordon Walker sit in on my lecture this morning”, Cas said bitterly. “He didn't say anything, but you know how he feels about the two of us. He picked out every little thing he could and made me sound like a total failure.”

“You're not!” Dean said hotly. “Can't you appeal? Or go to Missouri?”

“She's off at a conference in Dallas until Thursday”, Cas said mournfully. “I don't like her deputy Ms. Madden; I think she and Walker may even be seeing each other.”

“Someone should tell Mrs. Walker, then”, Dean said bitterly. “The students like you, Cas, and you get great work out of them. That's all that matters.”

“I just feel like a failure”, Cas said mournfully. “I failed you, I failed them....”

“You didn't fail me”, Dean said hotly. “I did a perfectly good job of that all by myself. Now go and get changed, and I'm running you a hot bath with one of those disgusting bath bombs you love so much.”

“I used the last one two weeks ago”, Cas said mournfully. Dean grinned and held up a bag.

“I bought three more for this week, because I thought you would need one”, he said, glad for once of his foresight (alright, Charlie's texted reminder). “Strip, angel, and let me see that perfect butt.”

Cas gave him a watery smile, and headed off to the bedroom. Dean waited until he was sure he had gone, then got his phone out.

"Charlie?" he said urgently. "I sorta need a favor...."


	25. Tuesday 25th September

Charlie Bradbury, in between being Queen of Moondor and embarrassing her favorite handmaiden at every opportunity - a full-time job, she had once quipped - was the computer technician at the college. They had tried to make her head of IT, but she had refused because she hated meetings and paperwork. She would much rather work one-on-one with the students. And when she turned up at the garage that afternoon, Dean was surprised, given that he'd fixed a small problem with her vomit-yellow excuse for a car last month (honestly, it almost made the pimpmobile look fit to be on the road). 

“I may bring good news, handmaiden”, she said, sweeping into the front office where Dean was busy working through their list of customers. “Stress the may, but it's a definite probability.”

“How can you have a definite probability?” Dean teased.

“Can it, this is serious”, she said firmly. “It's about a certain Mr. Gordon Walker who, as we know, had a run-in with our Cas yesterday.”

That was the thing about his husband, Dean thought with a small smile. No-one really liked him without adoring him. He belonged to Dean, but everyone wanted a piece of that....”

“Mind out of the gutter, handmaiden!”

“Sorry, Your Majesty”, Dean said standing up and curtsying.

“That's better”, she said, seating herself regally on Krissy's chair. “One of Cas' students came to see me this morning. She was sat next to Walker when he was doing that assessment yesterday, and she saw what he was writing. So she used her phone to secretly start filming.”

“So we've got evidence that he lied?” Dean asked excitedly.

“Not so fast”, she said. “Remember, it's actually against college rules to film without permission. She could be suspended if it came out. But don't worry your pretty little head. The Queen is gonna work her way round all the other bods in there and see if any of them did anything. She's sure the girl next to her was doing it as well. Then I can mix them together as an anonymous tape and make sure Missouri gets it when she gets back.”

“She'll know it's you”, Dean pointed out. She looked at him incredulously.

“Do you really think she'd be able to prove it?” she asked scornfully.

More chance of hell freezing over, Dean thought. He could feel his spirits rising.

“And I hacked into a local hotel where Walker and the deputy have been doing the horizontal tango”, she grinned. “Mrs. Walker's gonna get a rather interesting email quite soon.”

Dean loved this girl!


	26. Wednesday 26th September

It pretty much summed up their month that it chose today to bucket down, because this was the day Cas was excused lectures to accompany teams of math students into town to gather data for some project or other. Though when he heard the sound of thunder outside the garage, Dean began to worry (panic). 

“Did you see that lightning?” Cain asked as he came in. His wife Colette had gone for a job interview that morning, so he had been allowed to come in late. “Struck just outside town as I was coming back.”

“Thanks”, Dean said flatly. “Cas is out in that.”

“Oh”, his co-worker said. “Sorry.”

“You weren't to know”, Dean sighed. “It's been a difficult week, and this is just the cherry on the pie.”

Cain didn't correct the adage. They all knew how Dean felt about pie over cake.

+~+~+ 

The storm passed through quickly, and Dean was rarely more thankful that he got a text from his husband soon afterwards, saying he was alright and would see him that evening. And when he added a picture of the slice of pie he had picked up from Dean's favorite bakery, well, Dean had to step into the back room and have a moment.

He may or may not have hurtled into the house that evening, and pulled his husband into such a fierce hug that the professor could barely breathe. And he may have sobbed just a little into that permanent mess of hair. He may even have stripped Cas naked then and there in the kitchen and kissed him all over his body, then given him a blow-job which had both of them crying.

May, as in did. But there was no cuddling afterwards. Absolutely none whatsoever. The manly holding of each other on the couch was totally and completely different.

And since when did his conscience learn to snigger like that?


	27. Thursday 27th September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay!

Of all the sights Dean had expected/hoped to see when he came home that evening, Cas sat at the table with a couple of beer bottles in front of him did not feature on that list. He gaped.

His husband chuckled.

“Don't worry”, he said reassuringly. “It's non-alcoholic.”

“We got something to celebrate?” Dean asked hopefully. Cas nodded.

“Gordon Walker resigned.”

“What?”

“Someone” - Cas looked at Dean pointedly - “sent Missouri a file, from the lecture of mine he graded. Footage from the phones of three different students. The same someone – and I'm guessing it might just be a red-haired someone – mixed it well enough, but it was all clear. Everything he said about me was either untrue or taken out of context. Missouri called him into her office first thing this morning and gave him a straight choice; resign with immediate effect and get a reference, or face the school board who would certainly sack him. He cleared out his stuff and was gone by break.”

“Great!” Dean crowed. It was probably wrong on some level to celebrate the ruination of a fellow human, but Walker deserved it after what he had done to Cas.”

“Missouri is re-assessing me herself tomorrow”, Cas said, looking nervous again. “But I know she will at least be fair. I owe Charlie a lot for this.”

“After Eight”, Dean said. “Those horrible mint chocolates from England. She loves them, but she has to order them online.”

“I'm gonna order her the biggest box available”, Cas promised.

“And avoid the funny-flavored ones like orange”, Dean called after him as he hurried off to his room. “She only likes the originals.”

“Gotcha!”

Oh, but it was so good to see his husband finally happy! 

+~+~+

It was even better when Charlie texted him later to say that she'd just sent Mrs. Walker a rather interesting anonymous email.....


	28. Friday 28th September

Cas straightened his husband's collar, then kissed him.

“I'm so proud of you”, he said softly.

“Yeah”, Dean said, not looking at him.

“I am”, Cas pressed. “I can't begin to appreciate how difficult this is for you, and yet you are doing it. I admire you so much, Dean.”

His husband looked up hopefully, and batted his eyelashes at him. Cas chuckled.

“Yes, you can have a thorough spanking when we get back.”

“Yee-hie!”

+~+~+

It was lunchtime on Friday, and Dean was off to Dallas to pick up some parts. But not just that, because the car parked out front was a turquoise Lincoln, which he had salvaged and rebuilt from nothing. For his brother.

Not Sammy. It still hurt just a bit to think of Adam Milligan as his brother, though Dean knew that that was mostly because the boy – man, now – had been the result of affair his father must have had whilst Mary was pregnant with Sammy. Adam's mother had died five years ago, and her son had, at her request, tried to re-establish contact with his father only to find he had missed him by twelve months. He was a nice enough kid, but his existence just reminded Dean of yet another in the encyclopedia of his un-lamented late father's many failings. 

Yet Cas had insisted they become friends and, because it was Cas, Dean had made an effort. And the kid wasn't that bad, although annoyingly he was now as tall as Dean, who as the eldest brother had height rights. Or should have had, but for those damn genetics! It wasn't fair!

It had been Cas' suggestion that Dean repair a junker for his brother, one which he had initially been reluctant to do, but his husband had soon overcome his objections (a blow-job which had come perilously close to actually sucking Dean's brains out through his dick may just have been a slight influencing factor). And now Dean was driving said junker to Dallas to collect one small essential engine part for the garage, then Cas would come up tomorrow and collect him in Baby.

Cas would be driving Baby. All the way to Dallas. Ye gods, Dean was totally whipped. But as least he would be driving her home.

Uh, wouldn't he?


	29. Saturday 29th September

Dean slouched into the passenger seat, visibly sulking. Cas did not crow.

Very loudly.

“Shaddup!” Dean grumbled, scowling.

“I take it that Adam liked the car?” Cas said, narrowly suppressing a smile.

“Yeah, he liked the car. Can we go now?”

“And the two of you got on okay?”

“Yeah, we had a slumber party and braided each other's hair. Come on!”

Cas lost it, collapsing into a fit of laughter whilst his husband pouted beside him. Though he could see even from his angle that Dean was having hard work not to smile.

“Right, I'll say this once and never again”, his husband grumbled. “YouwererightandIwaswrongoverAdam, 'kay?”

“Sorry, what was that?” Cas said, cupping his hand to his ear. “I didn't quite catch you.”

“I hate you!”

“Oh Dean”, Cas sighed. “Now you've been a bad boy. You know that bad boys get punished. And to think I was going to let you drive home, but perhaps you'd rather....”

Dean gave him such a piteous look, but it was his batting of his eyelashes that made Cas crack up a second time. Eventually he recovered enough to slide out and let Dean take the wheel.

“Yes!” Dean snapped.

“But you're sticking to the speed limits all the way home”, Cas said. “I shall be watching.”

“And if I don't?” Dean quipped. “What're you gonna do about that?”

“I shall withhold your spanking.”

And then he had to crack up once more, as his husband looked like the most put-upon man in the history of ever!


	30. Sunday 30th September

This, Dean thought through a haze of mixed bliss and pain, was the life. The best way to consign a crappy month to the trash can of history, where it belonged. Ending it with him flat on his stomach on their memory foam bed, whilst Cas gently applied the ointment to his red butt.

He smirked as he remembered the one time Sam had been dumb enough actually try to prank Cas. His husband had seemingly taken it in good spirit, but he had then secretly recorded Dean's next spanking noises, and got Charlie to somehow install them on Sammy's phone as his ring-call. And he had then gone and called Sam right in the middle of class!

Sammy did not make that mistake again! Dean winced as his husband found a sore(r) spot. Damn, he'd been so good yesterday, sticking to those artificially low speed limits all the way home. And just when they'd turned onto the estate, he'd gotten a bit too eager to cross the carriageway and nudged over thirty. Cas' head had shot towards the speedometer, and he had then given Dean such a look that it had been amazing he had managed to get Baby into the garage without demolishing their fence! And once inside....

Cas had applied that damn flexible cock-ring, the one which Dean could come through with a ton of effort, and then given Dean six of the best. And then six more. And six more on top of that! Thank God he had had the sense to gag Dean first, because even then his husband was managing a range of sounds that would have made a special effects department jealous. And Cas had then inserted one of their plugs – not a dildo thankfully; Dean couldn't not have come on that – and insisted that Dean spend the rest of the day naked, coming over whenever Cas called so his husband could admire his glowing butt and tease him by laving over the wounds. God, it had been torture!

But the final release – wow! Just before bedtime, Cas had replaced the plug with their largest dildo, removed the ring, and turned the dildo up to maximum straight off. And Dean was a goner, his orgasm prolonged as Cas used his hand to only let him achieve release a little at a time. And then he had held a sobbing Dean, telling him with cudd... manly embraces and words how much he loved him, and how blessed he was in having him as a husband.

Dean may have had to initially sleep on his side until the soreness in his cock subsided, but after that Cas pulled him on top of him like a blanket again, and Dean snuggled contentedly into his husband's back. He silently thanked God for a husband who could surely not make his life any better.

“You can fuck me now”, came a familiar growl.

Meh, so Dean got it wrong from time to time.....


End file.
